The Boy is Mine
by fangirlxfantasies
Summary: After Justin starts to get a little close to what's his, Cody feels the need to make a little visit to RAW remind him.


**A/n from Jessica: whelp, i think we're officially back on this whole writing thing...hopefully anyway...no smut here, just bitchiness. but enjoy nonetheless!**

**Disclaimer: we own no one**

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**Randy Orton.

God, where to begin…

The man was sex on legs, plain and simple. No breathing, mentally competent person, male or female, could even begin to deny it. Being in lust with Randy Orton was almost an unspoken rule, a right of passage for each and every person he came in contact with, instantly piling names to his unending list of admirers.

The man resembled something along the lines of the beautiful, sculpted men depicted in famous paintings, usually under the title of angel or Grecian God- complete with the flawless physique to back it up. His eyes were beautiful, the way they sucked you in and made you feel like you were the only person in the room with him-the only person in the _world_.

And when you were finally graced with a conversation with him, when you were so blessed to actually hear that deep, rumbling voice directed at _you_… it was enough to make your knees weak.

He was perfect, no man living or otherwise could even begin to compare-

"Hellllloooo? Justin…"

Justin snapped out of his reverie, coming back to reality, unwillingly removing his gaze from the God in front of him to his best friend.

"Heath…hey…What, uh, what were you saying?" Justin smoothed his hair, a nervous habit of his, trying to focus his attention away from Randy.

Heath followed his line of sight, smirking when he found the object of Justin's blatant interest. "Still in love with Orton, huh?"

Justin spun to face his friend, nearly colliding with a locker, "What? I don't like him-dude I don't even…"

Justin faltered with the look on Heath's face, "…Yeah, I like him. But it's whatever; I think he has a boyfriend."

"Well just go over there! Come on Angel, you're hot, we all know this."

Justin smiled cockily, "Well that is true. Ok, yeah, I'm just gonna' go over there and talk to him!"

Heath smiled in support, nudging his friend forward.

Ok, he could do this. He was Justin Gabriel, dammit! _Everyone_ wanted him, and of course, he knew it. He and Randy would be great for each other; perfect together in every sense of the word.

Justin took a deep breath as he approached him, adding a little swag to his strut to show off the assets God gave him.

"Hey Randy…" Justin purred in his sexy South African accent, (which he knew no one could resist.)

"Hey kid, what's up?" Randy asked, looking up fleetingly as he wrapped his wrist tape.

"Oh, nothing I was just wondering…" Justin looked up at Randy from underneath his lashes, trying to look as sexy as possible, "you think you could help me out in the ring? Maybe show me a few _moves_…"

Randy continued his pre-match ritual, not noticing the lustful stare Justin was giving him, "Sure, no problem. Our styles are different, but I guess I could help you build on a few basic things."

"Thanks Randy. I'm sure you'd really be able to _teach_ me a lot."

"Yeah well, I have a couple years worth of knowledge, I guess." Randy said, smiling. God, swoon.

Justin looked over to Heath for support, hating the fact that Randy was oblivious to his obvious come on's. Ok, maybe he'd just have to turn it up a notch.

"Ok well, I guess we can practice tomorrow and-" Justin made like he was heading back towards his locker, only to _accidentally _trip over his own feet, sending his lithe form sprawling on top of one Randy Orton.

"Oh God, Randy I'm sorry!" Justin said, feigning worry, pushing himself off of Randy's lap while discreetly stroking his thick, corded thighs.

"It's fine, Justin. You okay?" Randy asked, concern on his face, as he righted the younger man.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Justin said, faux-adjusting himself, "thank you Randy. I'm just-God, _so_ clumsy."

Randy smiled, going back to his routine, rising to sort some things in his locker, "Don't worry about it. Just…worry about the show tonight."

Justin nodded, changing his face into a serious one, "Well I guess I'll see ya' out there."

Justin turned to leave, before stopping himself and boldly, avoiding all consequences, leaned up and kissed Randy on the cheek. "Bye."

He walked away, hoping to have left Randy stunned and wanting more like any other man would be.

Justin smirked as he reached Heath who was staring behind him at Randy's reaction. "Am I good or am I good?"

Heath smiled, looking down as he adjusted his shoulder pads, "go ahead and take a look for yer'self J-gay."

Justin rolled his eyes, turning around, displeased to find Randy, not flustered and panting with need for him like he'd expect, but simply chatting with John Cena, laughing and smiling like normal.

"Dammit…"

A week later and Justin's efforts still proved to be futile.

Not _one_ time had Randy been affected by Justin's come on's…not even after practically raping him in the showers.

For Justin, this kind of thing was cake. Seducing guys was his bread and butter, ask anyone who spent time with him in FCW. _No_ one had ever resisted his efforts like this, and yet every time Justin spoke to Randy he was as calm and collected as always, joking around and calling him 'kid'.

It was pissing him off.

"…Well I'm sure the match will be great, I mean you _are _in it." Justin said, flashing a smile to Randy. Maybe pandering could get him into Randy's pants.

Randy chuckled, smiling at Justin as he laced his boots, "Well let's hope everyone else thinks that too."

"Well that's obvious, I mean-" Justin was cut off as Randy's phone sounded, alerting him to a new text message.

"Hold that thought," Randy said, pulling his phone out of his bag.

Discreetly leaning over Randy's shoulder to peer at the screen, (yes, he was a nosy bitch. So what?) Justin was able to quickly make out the words 'miss you Randy'.

Justin sighed in irritation.

And _that_ was the other reason nothing he'd done had worked.

The monkey wrench thrown into Justin's plan, if you will.

Cody Rhodes.

He wasn't stupid, anyone who wasn't blind could see the way Randy fawned over Cody whenever they were in the same room, the way his eyes focused only on him…

Justin had seen them together at pay-per-views, one of them practically racing to the other as soon as they got the chance, basically making out with each other on the spot.

And of course he'd heard the way Randy talked about him. 'You guys watch Smackdown last night? Wasn't Cody great?' or 'Cody's definitely become the star of the show',

'Hold on Justin, I gotta' take this-Cody's calling.'

Blah, blah, blah…

Some might call him a home wrecking bitch, but hey, he was okay with that.

But this was infuriating; the little bitch was seriously pissing him off. Not even on the same show as him, and _still_ ruining his hard work.

"Well, I'll catch ya' later. Better go warm up before the show starts." Randy said, pocketing his cell and rising from his place on the bench.

"Bye Randy…" Justin whispered, slowly waving goodbye in a slut-ish fashion as he half-leaned against the lockers in a sexy pose.

"Later." Randy said, picking up a water bottle as he walked out the door.

"Dammit!" Justin muttered to himself, pushing off the lockers as began to rifle through his bag, his back to the door.

He didn't hear the door open silently, unaware of the familiar face staring at him in calm fury as he made his way across the locker room approaching Justin.

"…Swear to God, if nothing works by next week, I'm raping him…" Justin continued rummaging through his things, still not noticing he wasn't alone until he was turned around quickly coming face to face with Cody Rhodes…

…And a painful slap to the face.

"What the fuck?" Justin shouted, clutching his beet-red cheek, "What are you doing?"

"I don't think we've really met, but could I please talk to you for a minute?" Cody asked, voice deceptively sweet, almost like he didn't just bitch-slap Justin.

Justin soothed his burning cheek, face set into a scowl, realizing the game they were playing here. Brushing his anger off, he fluffed his hair, offered a fake smile, waving Cody ahead to the bench in the middle of the room.

Two can play that game.

"Let me just make this quick: I just wanted to let you know he's mine." Cody said, narrowing his eyes at Justin's smaller form.

Justin smiled, putting his hands on his hips, chuckling softly, "No no…he's mine."

Cody glared at Justin honestly shocked at his nerve, "You need to give it up; I've had enough. Even over on Smackdown I heard about your pathetic attempts at getting my boyfriend. Back off."

Justin smirked, not feeling threatened whatsoever, "See I know that you may be just a bit _jealous_ of me," He smiled as Cody clenched his fists, "because you're blind if you can't see that he's clearly into me."

Cody scoffed, scrubbing his hands across his face, "Ok. I'm going to make this really simple. Randy. Is. Mine. So whatever delusions you have thinking that he wants you, they're just that," Cody leaned into Justin's personal space, "_delusions._"

Justin sighed, rolling his eyes, "Look Cody, I know it's killing you inside that your boyfriend is tired of you," oops there went Cody's anger again, "but…I'm already bored of this. Maybe you should move on. You and Randy are the _past_. Why would he want to be with you, when there's me? I'm going to show him that he needs to be with me-he's not yours anymore, he's mine."

Cody growled, seriously sick of dealing with Justin, "Look, slut- _enough_. You need to quit this shit before you get your ass kicked. So why don't you head back to the superstar's locker room, leave my boyfriend the fuck alone, and go back to your usual routine of blowing anything with a dick."

Justin fumed, getting into Cody's face, all but ready to kick his ass. Who did he think he was? Comin' to _his_ show, _his_ locker room, calling _him_ a slut? Try the other way around.

The two broke their fierce gaze, heads turning as the door banged open, Randy entering oiled and sweaty from his match, belt slung over his shoulder.

"Cody?" Randy asked, throwing his championship carelessly on the floor, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, nothing," Cody said, removing himself from Justin's personal space, "just wanted to come see you."

Randy rushed to him, face practically cracking at the wide smile on his face as he scooped Cody into his arms ravishing his lips in a rough, passionate kiss.

Justin's anger and cockiness faltered a bit at that, staring at the intimate embrace, feeling completely out of place-Randy hadn't even noticed Justin was standing there.

Cody spun them around so he could see Justin's face from over Randy's shoulder. He felt a little sad for him, but there was no way he would give this man up, none whatsoever.

Closing his eyes, and deepening the kiss, Cody pointed towards the door from behind Randy's back, directing Justin exactly where to go.

Justin adjusted himself, reaching up to fluff his hair, and walked out of the room, hoping to at least _seem _like he still had his dignity.

Cody smiled inwardly, oh yes, the boy was _his_.

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**A/n from Jessica: I'm pretty sure this the first story ever where there HASN'T been a sex scene, hmm...weird, but i did think that, while hot, cody throwing randy on the floor and mounting him would be a bit overkill...but still..pretty...**

**Thanks for reading! Review Lovelies! :)**

**xo Jessica**


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